


By Your Side

by nybrat007



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nybrat007/pseuds/nybrat007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DA: Inquisition-timed story set from the POV of Serena Cousland as she has to leave her king and find a cure for the Calling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Your Side

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking creative licenses with this, with time frames, with story lines and with relationships, so there's you're fair warning.

**Kingsway . 9:37 . Dragon**

 

It started off small; barely noticeable really because running a country hardly left time for idle thinking. Hell, running a country like Ferelden, putting _back together_ a country like Ferelden, didn’t even really leave enough time to get a good night’s sleep. One evening changed things though. It was a cool night (warm by Ferelden’s standards) and the king and queen were at the kennels, inspecting the next generation of Mabari war hounds. Serena was on the ground, sitting back flat against the wall, next to the father of the litter, her own faithful Mabari and veteran of the Fifth Blight, Luka. They were both watching Alistair trying desperately hard to pay attention to one of the captains giving out some longwinded report of the litter when there were four puppies at his feet, desperately vying for his attention by crawling all over each other to get to him. He was keeping his eyes up, nodding when appropriate, but she saw the corners of his mouth curving up into a smile until he finally broke and held up a hand to halt the man’s report. He knelt down and paid the puppies enough attention to satisfy everyone involved (save for the disgruntled kennel worker) and then immediately stood back up, brushing some hay off the knees of his pants.

Serena couldn’t keep the smile off her and had one hand on Luka’s head, petting him idly until she frowned and stopped. The Mabari whined and nudged at her hand but she didn’t pay him any attention, her focus instead on the low humming in the furthest recesses of her mind. She’d heard something similar seven years ago when they were smack dab in the middle of the Fifth Blight, listening to the sounds of the darkspawn and the Archdemon as they communicated to one another, but as soon as that dragon god was dead it was gone. The fact she was hearing it now was more than a little disconcerting.

Alistair reached up and rubbed at his ear and Serena couldn’t help but wonder if he heard something too or it was just a coincidence. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and realized she’d been so lost in them only when the only sound left was a dozen puppies scrambling about and Alistair clearing his throat. She looked up and took the hand he offered and allowed him to help her up. They bid their farewells to the puppies and the kennel master (in that order) and he tucked her arm in his as they walked through downtown, completely aware of the plainclothes guards trailing behind them, swords strapped securely to their sides. In a few days’ time they were set to entertain a fairly large contingency including ambassadors from countries as far away from Antiva, emissaries from the Empress’’ court as well as the chantry, the acting prince of Starkhaven, a handful of representatives from the Free Marches as well as heads of some of the more major lands in Ferelden, including Redciffe, Highever and Amaranthine.

“Is everything looking good?” she finally asked, looking up at him and he smiled as they easily sidestepped an elderly couple who both beamed at the monarchs when Alistair bid them the Maker’s blessing. That’s what Serena absolutely adored about the country and capital city in particular—they could walk through the streets without getting accosted, without people begging for blessings and favors, gossiping and straining to eavesdrop on their conversation. Because they’d started off as the Grey Warden heroes, _because_ they’d started off by helping people whose names Serena could still remember to this day, they were considered approachable and because they were considered approachable, their loyal subjects were more than happy to give them a respectable distance. Serena thought of the idea of Empress Celene walking through the streets of Val Royeaux without getting mobbed and had to physically resist the urge to scoff. She would never be able to pull it off. Of course she’d never be able to pull off killing an Archdemon either but that was a whole other story…

“Everything’s looking good from where I’m standing,” he said with that same smile she fell in love with all those years ago, except this time she felt all of the security in the world on her side to shake her head and nudge him in the side. That wasn’t what she meant and he knew it, but he still couldn’t help but notice the fact he could still make her blush… and that pleased him. “Things are looking very well, as a matter of fact. It seems ol’ Luka here still has it in him and the litter’s only seem to be getting stronger. At least that’s what Markus told me but it really could have just been because he was sitting right there and didn’t want to insult Luka or hurt his feelings.”

The Mabari whined his disapproval at the insinuation and Serena pursed her lips, kneeling down in front of the dog and putting her arms around his neck and knew she had to pull out her best baby voice for this damage control. “Alistair didn’t mean it, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about really,” she promised, scratching behind his ears. “Anybody is lucky to have a Mabari with you as their daddy. You’re like a fine wine, you only get better with age—“

And all was cut off when Alistair pulled her back up to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. The move was so smooth and surprising and she couldn’t help the ‘oh’ that escaped her lips. “Alistair doesn’t know what he’s talking about, hm?”

Serena brushed her hands up his chest until they locked behind his neck, pressing up closer to him. “Oh well… I mean… I guess he does. Know what he’s talking about sometimes, I mean. Damnit…”

His head dipped down so his lips were next to her ear and his breath sent delicious chills up and down her spine and her toes curled in her boots. “The woman who used her silver tongue and managed to charm the pants off the participants at The Landsmeet is getting flustered… we must be in some alternative universe.”

The brunette reached up and trailed the tip of her finger behind his ear, a spot she knew he had an _incredible_ weakness to and smiled up at him. “The only person I’ve ever wanted to think of with their pants off there is you but thank you for that incredibly disturbing mental image.”

Alistair pulled away like he’d been burnt and made a face like he’d just eaten something really sour and she couldn’t help but laugh as he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, shaking her head. “We were having a moment and you ruined it,” he all but whined and she sidled back up to him, bottom lip pouted out.

“The opportunity was there and I couldn’t help but take it. I’ll make it up to you though, I promise,” she said matter-of-factly and his eyebrows rose in interest.

“Is that so?”

“That is indeed so.”

The only response she got was a pleased sounding ‘hmm’ and Serena smiled, her hand finding Alistair’s, fingers twining with his. The guards bowed as they approached the castle and both monarchs nodded their heads back in respect. The gates were about to close behind them, finally allowing for them to retire for the evening when some yelling behind caught their attention.

“Your majesties! Warden-Commander!”

The guard’s hands went to their swords and Luka crouched down, teeth bared, ready to fight if there was even the slightest hint of a threat to his humans. Instead of some general hell-bent on conquering the city, a messenger stopped just outside of the still-open gates, hands on his knees as he bent forward to catch his breath. Alistair and Serena looked at each other curiously before they walked toward the man. The soldiers and Luka were still very much on guard and the Mabari lot out a low, warning growl until Serena’s fingertips on the top of his head stilled him and he immediately backed off and sat up straight. She knew those colors and she and Alistair stood in front of him as he finally stood up straight before promptly bowing again.

“Your majesties I do apologize for giving you a start. I assure you that was never my intention. I just knew I needed to get this to you and the fact that—“

“What’s the message?” Alistair finally cut in, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice and the man paled.

“I have word from Avernus my King, and Queen,” he said. “I was ordered to deliver it post haste, was told the Warden-Commander needed to see it straight away.”

Serena sighed in relief and next to her she could feel Alistair do the same. The old Warden said the same thing with each message sent and it was never true, so she just held out her hand and took the letter from _his_ outstretched hand.

“I wonder how many times he heard Sophia Dryden from upstairs _this_ week,” Alistair said lightly and Serena grinned and the King turned to one of the guards. “See to it that this man has a room for the night. We can’t have him going back out at this time of night.”

“I don’t wish to impose—“

“Nonsense,” Serena interrupted. “You’ve provided a massively vital service and it’s only right that we pay you back in kind. You shall be our guest this evening.”

The messenger was clearly flustered and he blushed before pulling the hat from his head and holding it to his chest as he bowed deeply. “Maker bless Ferelden and the benevolence of it’s King and Queen. May she forever prosper.”

“Yes well,” Alistair said finally and Serena nudged him in the side with a small smile and he turned back to a guard. “Find Thomas, he will arrange for a room.”

The man bowed once again and followed the guard toward the apartments and Serena was more than pleased to see another soldier immediately take his place. This place was like a well-oiled machine and she couldn’t be happier.

The hall doors were opened and she smiled up at Alistair as he let her through first (ever the gentleman), delicious smells from the kitchen immediately assaulting her nose and she had the decency to at least blush when her stomach started growling. Alistair knew better than to say anything and once inside, Luka happily bounded ahead of the couple toward the kitchen, knowing if he waited patiently and maybe threw in some whining here and there, the cook would take the bait and give him some scraps leftover from supper preparation. Luka had faith—it worked like a charm every other night like clockwork. Supper had been over for hours now but now preparations had gotten underway for what promised to be the start of a very interesting few days, starting tomorrow. A few of their guests had already arrived but most would get their tomorrow morning, afternoon at the latest.

Serena’s fingers were at the knot at her throat securing her cloak until Alistair put his hands over her and helped her out of it.   It wasn’t cold in the castle, hadn’t been _too_ cold outside but still she found her fingers shaking. “Everything okay?” he asked, concern showing on his forehead and she nodded as he finally undid the tie and handed off her cloak to Madalen, Serena’s lady-in-waiting who was at her side and disappeared silently and with a deep bow.

They walked past the great hall filled with servants working tirelessly to ensure the Great Hall was ready to accept their high caliber of in-coming guests and, of course sitting around, making it difficult for the servant’s to move around them, were the courtiers and Serena’s nose wrinkled in distaste. She knew they were an integral part of court but that didn’t mean she necessarily _enjoyed_ having them around. Sure some of them she could consider friends but the rest were, well, leeches was definitely the best word to describe them. She’d want to do without them in the off chance there’d be spies and in an odd twist of fate, kept a bunch of them around _because_ there were spies in their midst. Spies serving Alistair and herself. At Leliana’s insistence. It’d been a wedding present of sorts from the Right Hand of the Divine because as much work as she had on her plate at any given time, the protection of Ferelden’s monarchs took precedence over everything else.

 

_“So you’re giving us… spies,” Alistair said with a bemused look on his face and the redhead had nodded in earnest. “Does Serena know about this?” The nodding became a slow shake of her head and Alistair sighed, resting his hand on the back of his neck._

_"I didn’t think that her_ wedding day _is the right time to inform my friend that there’d be no less than a dozen spies in the castle at any given moment,” she paused. “Actually I’m not quite sure when the right time to tell her something like that would be—“_

_"Tell her something like what? Would that someone happen to be me?” Serena teased as she sidled up to the two of them and Leliana smiled when Alistair leaned down and kissed her forehead, making the newly crowned queen blush._

_Alistair shared a quick look with Leliana and she pressed her lips together. “Leliana here was actually just telling me about her present to us.”_

_Serena instantly looked confused. “Well… I know you like it when I’m happy and feel pretty but I think the shoes were made less for_ us _and more for_ me.” _Leliana giggled as the queen lifted her dress just above her ankles to show off the forest green heels with emeralds and diamonds dusted over the top and ribbons crisscrossing to mid-calf. The reception dress was a dark green silk number (impractical, Alistair had said, for their winter nuptials, but he wasn’t complaining when he saw the finished product) with a modestly (for a queen, of course) plunging V-neckline that reached just under her breasts with delicate, platinum-jeweled straps keeping everything securely in place and delicate, platinum-jeweled straps to hold it all up. As exquisite as they were, matching the straps in front perfectly, they were now hidden under the fennec fur hoodlet draped around her shoulders, clasped at her throat with an emerald to match the drop earrings and tie the whole outfit together. Of course the fact that her shoes matched perfectly had been no accident since Leliana had been there for the whole dress-creation process, but it had been an absolutely lovely and thoughtful gift anyway. “And the bracers were for you.”_

_“That’s not the only present,” Leliana said, noting the exasperated look growing on Alistair’s face and not wanting to cause him strife of any kind, especially not today._

_“You didn’t have to get us anything else!” Serena exclaimed, though she was already hugging her best friend and Leliana reciprocated, looking and feeling completely at ease for the first time in a long time._

_“I was not going to stop at mere baubles—“_

_“Heresy!”_

_Leliana laughed at Serena’s reaction. “Expensive and thoughtful, practical and useful baubles,” she corrected and Serena nodded so she kept on. “Here, let us talk someplace with less people,” she said, sidestepping a particularly rowdy trio of soldiers who were discussing ways to approach the Theirin’s pretty blonde minstrel, Renea, and led the couple over to somewhere a little more private. Alistair was quick to pull out the chair for Serena first and then Leliana, despite the latter’s protests that she was_ most _capable of doing it herself. She counted herself blessed to witness the two coming together as they did over the year they travelled Ferelden together—Alistair, the conscripted Templar recruit to (at the time) an unwitting Grey Warden co-leader who metamorphosed into a man who encapsulated all of the good Theirin traits, starting with Calenhad and travelling all of the way back down to Alistair’s own father, Maric: that made the Theirins one of Thedas’ most-respected royal bloodlines and Serena, the already noble born and bred, forged from the blood of a family fighting for what they earned 600 years ago (and still up until a few months ago, some could argue), with Teryna Elethea Cousland actually fighting King Calenhad until ultimately swearing fealty to him. Leliana wondered if both their ancestors were proud, watching from their places at the side of the Maker and ultimately decided that yes, yes they were._

_Serena realized it’d be rude to press the matter on something like gifts to a person who’d already done so much for the two of them, and it was like Alistair could sense his wife’s eagerness because he’s the one who spoke up. “I suppose you should let her know.”_

_“I suppose it would only be fair,” Leliana acquiesced before the Queen would be indignant about Alistair knowing before herself. “Serena, you are aware I hold a small army of a network of spies and agents at my command, correct?”_

_“I am.”_

_“Well I would consider myself an awful friend not to extend the same courtesy to you,” she said and the brunette looked on curiously. “When I leave for Val Royeaux next week I shall be leaving behind a dozen or so of my best agents. They will take up innocuous spots around the castle but will always be watching and will be always listening. They’ve been instructed to give you both daily reports and should, Maker-forbid, something come to pass to which you two cannot handle on your own, then they’ve been instructed to find me and either myself or more of my agents will be there to aid and overcome.”_

_Serena immediately felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes and she simply reached across the table, holding both of Leliana’s hands tightly in her own. She didn’t trust herself enough to speak without crying and the reaction was the only one Leliana needed to know she’d made a wise decision._

“Serena.” She looked up quickly and Alistair looked at her in concern. “I kind of lost you there for a second. Are you _sure_ everything is alright.”

“I promise,” she assured. “I’m just… nervous for tomorrow, I suppose. This whole thing doesn’t have the makings of a pleasant time, something your own visit to Kirkwall can surely attest to.”

It was true, of course. His trip had gone less than stellar. He’d only been home for a few weeks when it was brought to their attention that Denerim would be playing host to consortium of sorts, to discuss the pressing matters of a Qunari invasion of Kirkwall, murmurings coming from Kirkwall and the Divine herself. And even more specific than that? Murmurings having to do with the rapidly declining, exceedingly strained relationship between the Mages and Templars.

Though neither King nor Queen could necessarily claim allegiance to either side, if she had to guess she would imagine (?) they were pro-Templar, but that was only because Alistair trained as one though never took his vows. Well, that was a good question she was sure she’d have to take some stance on at one point, though she’d really rather not think about it now. Serena could barely deal with having to attend these kind of functions when they _weren’t_ on her own soil, but now that they’d be having these guests in the castle… it made her uneasy. Even the _spies_ had informed the monarchs that they’d be on high alert. Yes, yes that was very comforting.

“C’mon, we’ll get Madalen to get someone to draw you a nice hot bath while I take care of a few last minute things and then I’ll join you and then I promise the rest of the evening will quiet and peaceful with not a care in the world,” he promised, reaching up and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Serena smiled and nuzzled his hand, making him groan. “You make it impossible to want to do things.”

“Not all things.”

“Important things that need to be done,” he corrected.

“But I’m an import—“

Anything she was about to say was cut off when he rested his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her closer to him, pressing his lips to hers until they broke apart and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest, s smile on her face as she ghosted the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. “When did I become the voice of reason in this relationship?” he joked as they walked toward the royal wing. “That was never supposed to happen, wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Are you complaining?”

“I’m not! Of course I’m not,” he said quickly.

She kept one hand resting on his chest while she leaned up on tip-toe and kissed him softly. “Then take care of what you need to and don’t be long, okay?”

 "I promise.”

The brunette watched as he turned and walked away, a smile on his face and she allowed herself to be escorted to the royal quarters, the note tucked in her cloak a distant memory.


End file.
